A Friend In Need Is A Friend Indeed

The sounds of hushed conversation seeped through the dwindling haze of sleep as Hermione stirred. She left the dreams of harsh words, cold glares and the wrenching agony of the icy blade of betrayal. Curled on her side, her face peeling off her pillow from where she had wept before falling asleep, Hermione opened her puffy eyes. Daylight streamed through the window, making it through the gap in her hangings where her bedside table sat with a half-empty glass of water and her wand.

"...upset. She asked him as her date…

"...said they weren't going together anymore…

Hermione rolled her face back against the pillow. As she did, her cheek brushed against something silky. She peered out, seeing a silvery, shimmery shroud resting on top of her quilt.

"Did Hermione know that? Look, I'm not saying that you shouldn't have kissed him, just… be considerate and give her space."

Hermione unfolded an arm from her quilt and reached for her wand.

"Silencio," she whispered, throwing the silencing charm at her hangings. The whispers of the girls she shared the dorm with were replaced with blessed silence. She could not and would not face hearing them talk about her. The girls' gossip got on her nerves enough. Being the subject of it was not how she wanted to face the day.

Though she was touched by Parvati's words.

The alarm clock on her bedside table assured Hermione that she had enough time to lay and wait for the other girls to leave. Closing her eyes she curled in, her misery and hurt making her want to throw Harry's cloak over herself and disappear.

Harry's cloak.

Her eyes flew open. It was right next to her. His cloak. Harry gave her his cloak so she could hide if she wanted to. The unbearable pressure in her chest eased a little as her hand grasped the silky folds. She brought it towards her, brushing it over her face. It was cooling, soothing… and there was a scent. It reminded her of something… a bit like freshly cut grass.

She leaned closer, inhaling the scent, it wasn't grass but something else. Some fragrance, soap? Then it hit her. It was the smell of the soap down in the Quidditch changing rooms. Harry always smelled like it when he came back from practice. A sweet, fresh smell. If green had a smell, that was it. Soothing, natural… calming.

Her heart swelled with affection for her friend. Tears seeped out from her. Not tears of loss and heartache, but tears of overwhelming gratitude and appreciation. Harry chose her.

The events of the party were a blur. She made her way into the Common Room with every intention of slipping away into the dorm and making herself scarce. Her introverted self couldn't handle large groups as it was. She soon found herself talking with Neville when he came up to her to ask about the transfiguration homework that they were due to hand in the next day. She was briefly distracted when there was an explosion of cheering. She turned, seeing the swarm of girls rush for the Portrait Hole. She grimaced, feeling sorry for Harry, knowing how much he hated the attention.

But as they swarmed, it revealed what was going on in the corner. Then, she saw them and it wiped out everything from her brain. All she could see, all she could focus on, was Ron's lips grinding against Lavender's. Her hands gripping his robe collar, her hair falling on Ron's face.

"Oh… no…" Neville said in a shocked voice. "Hermione… I didn't know…"

She brokenly answered Neville's questions about the homework and then ran. She didn't know what else to do. Her mind was devoid of anything, the shock taking her to a disused classroom. Her wand was out and she was absent-mindedly charming birds around her, not knowing what she was doing or why.

Then Harry was there. Confused, worried, and concerned Harry. Before they got the chance to talk, they were there.

It cracked then. Her heart. She broke right in front of them and lashed out at the source of her misery. She fled, blinded with tears, the pain and grief so awful, so consuming.

Hermione Granger, the bossy know-it-all who no one likes, no one wants and no one cares about.

Her confidence shattered with her heart as she cried.

Ron doesn't care about me… all he cares about is looking good and not being in Harry's shadow.

She sobbed, the pain too much. She thought of how disappointed she had been at Harry for doing something so illegal just for a sport. Only for it to all be a trick and then she felt so guilty for not believing in Harry.

Why would Harry care about me when I showed such a lack of trust? All I do is bring him down.

But then he was there. She nearly hexed him when he appeared in the bathroom, but he was there. His expression had been wretched, sorrowful… guilty.

She ran for him, holding him before he could fly off and leave her. He held her, rubbed her back. He said nothing, but he didn't need to.

Laying in a tight ball on her bed, Hermione took her thoughts away from the pain. She sighed as it became all too clear to her.

"I still have Harry," she said to herself. She pushed Harry's cloak into her face, breathing in his soothing scent. "I'm not alone."

It was enough, more than enough, for her to pull herself out of her misery and greet the day. Life goes on. Hurts will heal.

Hearts will mend.

Hermione Granger drew on her Gryffindor courage, pulling back her hangings. The morning sunshine stung at her eyes. Sound returned to her as she broke her silencing charms, discovering herself alone in the dormitory. The large dorm was supposed to house up to seven students. Instead, there were only three.

There was a noticeable difference in the sizes of the years, more noticeable now that students born after the first war considerably outnumbered those born during the war. As expected, there had been a huge baby boom after Voldemort was defeated that Halloween. It was safe again to bring a child into the world, after it had been a child that made it safe for them in the first place. A child who lost his family, sacrificed so he could live. A child who was now her best friend.

She found herself wondering if Harry noticed the difference in the year sizes and if he was aware that he was responsible. Then she found herself thinking about him a lot as she showered and dressed.

She suddenly felt so foolish. Breaking down on Harry over something so trivial. Harry had lost all the family he ever had and yet he was still capable of showing her such empathy and compassion. He gave her his father's Cloak, his most precious possession, so she could avoid the stares and gossip that was due to follow her. The rumour mill at Hogwarts was not an idle thing. Very soon, the school would know that the best friends of Harry Potter had fallen out. Harry had told her he was used to it. Ron relished the attention but she did not. She gratefully took the Cloak, so touched by his understanding.

She stowed his Cloak in her bag when she returned to her bed, in her robes, her hair loose in curls around her shoulders. She wouldn't face this with her tail between her legs. She would show Ron nothing, no guilt at attacking him, no hurt from his rejection. She'd walk down, join her best friend, and move on. Ron didn't want her so he wouldn't have her. Not as a friend. Not as anyone. Not until he apologised.

Leaving the dorm, she knew that she would be one of the last to arrive for breakfast. She was far from hungry, her stomach in knots. Her feet took her to the Great Hall, trying to focus instead on her timetable and the different assignments that she would get back. She had been looking forward to seeing how well she had done on the last Arithmancy project.

It was hard to not notice the stares flicking up at her from the Gryffindor table. She didn't halt, her focus completely fixed on a head of jet black locks, all sticking up in different directions. Beside Harry was Dean and Ginny. At the sight of Ginny with Harry, Hermione felt a wave of relief. Of course, after what Harry had said about Ron and Ginny's argument, she hardly expected Ginny to side with her brother. When she approached, Harry's face split with a relieved grin. Her heart swelled with affection towards her friend. He shifted from Ginny to give her a space between them.

When she put her bag down, she raised her head. At once, her eyes found him. For a split second, their gazes met. She caught him in the act of staring at her. Ron looked away, going to chat to Seamus. Her eyes then lingered on his ears. They were bright red.

"I filled you a plate," Ginny's voice pulled her back. Hermione looked down as Ginny pushed a copper plate in front of her. Toast, eggs, bacon…

Harry next to her was filling up a cup of pumpkin juice and set it in front of her.

"There's still ten minutes so don't give yourself indigestion," he said to her. She rolled her eyes at his fussing. She caught sight of an amused smile playing on Ginny's face.

"What?"

"It's just… you know, it's usually you telling Harry to eat, not the other way around."

Harry raised his hands. "I can be caring!"

"You're being overbearing."

Hermione caught sight of him glancing over in their direction. She picked up her knife and fork. Her heart felt over-large in her chest as Ginny and Harry playfully bickered. She knew it was a display. They were making a show of how things were just as normal without Ron. It was strangely vindictive of Harry. Hermione gazed up at him once she had eaten enough.

"You spoke with him, didn't you?"

Harry had been mid-swig of his juice. He lowered his cup. Dean, on the other side of Ginny, heard what Hermione said.

"Understatement," Dean said. "I'm surprised he didn't wake up the whole tower."

What?

She put her knife and fork down. "Harry, I said I didn't want this to be awkward for you."

He sighed, looking down at his own empty plate. His green eyes were hard and he played with the edge of his sleeve. He looked across at her. "I don't regret it for one minute, alright?"

He then took her by surprise by swiping his knuckle over her cheek.

"Don't let it get to you. He's not worth it," he told her. Harry sucked in a deep breath, his green eyes burning with a ferocity that usually made Hermione alarmed that his temper was due to blow at her. He controlled himself then laughed. "I'll try to take my own advice."

Hermione leaned towards him.

"What on earth did you do?"

Harry chewed his lip ruefully. "I… sort of lost it when he accused me of bailing on him. I called him out on letting you down and treating you like shit. Said he was thinking with his…" Harry met Dean's gaze and then looked down. He looked over at Hermione. "Maybe that's not for here… but anyway, we aren't talking now. He completely ghosted me this morning."

He then shifted on the bench, looking down at her half-eaten food.

"Enough about that though. Have you finished?" He gestured down at her plate. "We can make our way to Transfiguration now. Get away from all the… staring." He glanced around. Hermione then noticed that a lot of people were staring his way. Mostly girls. In fact, when she properly paid attention to the other students, girls from all Houses were shooting Harry looks.

Hopeful looks.

Ginny gave a snort, hearing what Harry had said. "You can't blame them for their fascination with you, Mr Chosen Captain Who Lived."

"Shush…" Harry's face had turned a fierce pink. "Do you have my cloak, Hermione? I think I might need it today. I thought I had something on my face this morning, but then they weren't looking just at my face."

Ginny and Dean both chuckled at that. Hermione could see that Harry was genuinely uncomfortable with the attention. She swung her leg from the bench.

"I have it and… thanks for lending it to me."

"Yeah, no worries." He grinned gratefully at her, taking his own bag. "See you in there, Dean."

"Yeah."

Harry's hand moved up to her back in a light gesture, his arm moving behind. It was small, almost insignificant, but Hermione felt soothed by his presence. His protective, stoic presence. As they walked down the gap between the tables, Hermione raised her head, meeting some of the stares from the girls who were drinking in Harry's appearance like he was some sort of delectable morsel. Her arm then came up, resting on his back in a short gesture. He glanced over to her, his smile widening. Her eyes caught his dimple, deepening on his cheek.

She leaned into him when they slipped through the doors out towards the Grand Staircase.

"I told you so," she whispered to him. He frowned.

"What?"

"You are fanciable."

Somehow, watching Harry's flush spread from his cheeks to the back of his neck made her feel like she had accomplished something. A small victory. Teasing Harry, making him blush, it filled a need that she hadn't realised she had. It gave her joy.

"Yeah well, they can all be disappointed," he said, his expression turning thoughtful as they headed up the stairs. He looked across at her. "Because I'd never pick someone who sees all the… Chosen One stuff… and not me. They don't care about me. Just that they can boast about being with the Boy Who Lived."

His face turned stormy when they climbed the stairs. Hermione then realised something horribly tragic about what he had just said. He continued.

"Friendship is more important to me. The people who… like me for me ," he said, his expression dead serious now. "People who I can trust. That… is worth more than an easy snog and a date hanging off my arm."

Hermione stared up at his face, seeing the sincerity in his brilliant green eyes.

Oh Harry…

"After everything that happened last night, I can safely say I agree with you." She said earnestly. He turned, meeting her gaze. "This is enough."

Only Hannah Abbott and Ernie McMillian were at the class early. The two Hufflepuff prefects nodded their greeting from their desk at the front. Harry's gaze drifted to the desk where he would usually sit, right at the back, with Ron. At the back so they could get away with sharing notes and generally messing around. He drew to an abrupt halt. Of course, he had forgotten that he sat next to Ron during pretty much all of his classes.

"There's no seating plan this year, remember Harry?" Hermione whispered in his ear. "Sit with me."

He gave her a stiff nod in response, taking her lead and walking up to the front of the classroom to the desk behind the two Hufflepuffs. Both blinked and stared curiously at how Harry and Hermione had come alone to the class. It appeared the gossip hadn't quite made it around the other Houses.

It'll only be a matter of time. Harry thought bitterly. Usually any drama involving him made the rounds quickly. It took a day for the whispers to spread, usually, aided more often than not by the ghosts who couldn't resist with spreading the news. Being dead, they had nothing better to do.

Professor McGonagall, as usual, was standing at her desk, preparing for the lesson. She looked around, seeing Harry and Hermione. She put down her sheaf of parchment, drawing towards them as Harry set his bag down in the seat next to Hermione to take out his books and pencil case.

"Before you both settle down, a word?"

Harry froze. He nodded in response, glimpsing enough from the stern line of his Head of House's mouth that she wished to speak with him in private. He followed her to the corner of the classroom, glancing over his shoulder at Hermione who just gave him a shrug in response. She was none the wiser.

Joining their teacher at the far window, Harry and Hermione stood together as McGonagall she drew her wand and cast silencing charms to give them privacy. He eyed her nervously.

Is this about our fight last night?

"Firstly, Potter, allow me to offer you my congratulations on your win yesterday. You have certainly put together a good team."

"I… er… thanks, Professor," Harry said, taken by surprise as always when she gave him a compliment rather than a reprimand.

"Secondly, it has come to my attention that… there has been a disagreement between yourselves and Weasley." Her stern eyes moved to Hermione. "I hope this will not present itself in my classroom. You will keep your personal issues at the door?"

"Yes, Professor," Harry and Hermione both said, glancing at each other. He frowned, looking at McGonagall's face, trying to glean a hint to how she managed to find out. Her lip then quirked up in the corner.

"I have my ways and you were not exactly subtle, which is why I must bring this matter up with you both. I cannot have two of my prefects and my Quidditch Captain embroiled in a drama and, I'm afraid to say, Potter, any drama that involves you will pick up attention."

Harry sighed. "I know."

"I'm not asking you to resolve this overnight, but only ask that you conduct your business with civility. No more midnight shouting matches, Potter," she said sternly. He opened his mouth to argue that Ron had started it, which he had, but closed his mouth immediately at the flash in her eyes. She then looked over to Hermione. "And five points off Gryffindor, Miss Granger, for attacking a student. I will not take the matter further as I believe there was provocation, correct?"

Harry gave Hermione a sympathetic look. Her face pinked and she looked down, shamefacedly.

"Yes, Professor," Hermione said quietly, sounding miserable.

"Very good. I trust you both to deal with the matter maturely, and Potter, remember that as the Captain, you do have the right to dismiss a team member who does not respect your authority. You may… need to remind your team of that fact when you practice."

Harry huffed a breath out of his nose. Practice was going to be beyond awkward.

"I will, Professor."

She nodded. "Excellent. You may return to your desk."

The pair of them quickly moved away, noticing the classroom filling up with their classmates. Harry caught Neville's curious look but turned away. Ron and Lavender hadn't arrived at least. He leaned towards Hermione to whisper conspiratorially in her ear.

"That was unexpected," he said quietly. She gave a small grimace in response and rushed to her chair. Her face was still pink. Harry's frown deepened and he reached across for her arm. He heard a few gasps and looked around, seeing that they were in full view of the class. He dropped his hand, shifting close to her and turning so no one could see his mouth.

"Are you okay?" He asked her. She glanced up at him, her eyes bright and wide. She looked away.

"A bit embarrassed."

"Yeah, me too, but at least we know she won't let anything interrupt the class," Harry said under his breath. He set his things on the desk, sliding his bag to the floor before sitting down. As he did, he caught a glimpse of red hair in the corner of his eye. He turned fully to face the front, sticking his quill in the holder. Hermione arranged her side of the desk with the usual neatness and organisation.

"It's true… Weasley and Brown!" A shocked gasp came from their backs. Hermione's head ducked down in response. The gasp was enough to set the whispers off. Harry heard his and Hermione's names mingled in the mix of hushed voices, he did his best to not listen, but it was impossible.

"But Granger…?"

"Potter wasn't with them…"

"...fallen out…"

"Trouble in paradise…"

Professor McGonagall swept from her desk, her emerald green robes snapping around her ankles.

"I trust you will all leave your gossiping to your own time?" She asked the room in general. The room fell silent at once. Like Snape, McGonagall controlled the class with no effort. Hermione let out a small breath of relief at his side.

He shared a look with her, offering a small smile of support. She smiled back, taking a fresh sheet of parchment and drew it towards herself, scribbling the date on the corner as she always did.

"As you have all no doubt noticed, you each have a mirror on your desk. Today, we will begin to put self-transfiguration in practice. Before we move into the practical application, we shall revisit the theory. I deemed it best if we start with changing hair colour before moving onto altering any other body parts…"

Doing his best to focus on the refresher lecture, Harry drew all his attention on the professor, watching her marking out the spell paths and the focal points of the incantation. He inked his quill, taking notes, glancing across to Hermione who had nearly already filled her sheet with notes. He brought his attention back.

Maybe changing my hair colour will be a good disguise, he mused as he sketched down his list of hair colours to practice.

"You will find it easier to picture a hair colour that is in direct contrast to your natural hue. Those of you with fairer hair will have greater success changing your hair to a darker shade and vice versa. Unnatural colours are much harder, but if you succeed with a natural shade, you may experiment."

Harry thought of Tonks and her bubblegum pink hair.

Perhaps not pink…

At McGonagall's instruction, Harry and the other students set their mirrors up to face them. It was easier to see their reflections to visualise the transfiguration. Harry's gaze moved to the pair of eyes staring at him from behind as if magnetised. Even seven desks back from his own, he could see the stare, feel it. If stares could be felt, this one was like a laser searing into the back of his head.

Immediately, his mind took him back to the night before. He was staring into the same eyes, only they were livid, hard and stubborn. Narrowed in a look of intense rage, they were ignited with vitrole, matching the venom that dripped off his cold, sharp words.

"One thing goes my way for once and you can't even make the effort to be happy for me."

Then he could hear his sarcastic, dark voice in retaliation.

"Congratulations, Ron. You kissed a girl. Really… good job. Wasn't the right girl though, was it?"

"What are you talking about? "

"Don't play stupid with me. I was there. I heard Hermione ask you to the party as her date. "

"I shall now demonstrate." Professor McGonagall drew her own wand. Usually, this was when Harry would have to really pay attention to see the wand movement, but he was distracted.

"Yeah, out of fucking pity, like everything handed my way… like you faking putting that potion in my drink. "

"How was that out of pity? I got you to believe in yourself because I know you hold yourself back. "

Harry had crossed his arms, his feelings turning quickly to resentment.

"I didn't ask for your hand-out."

"No, I did it because I'm your friend… but you clearly have no clue what that even means. Not when you care so little about Hermione's feelings. What the hell were you thinking?"

His voice rose several decibels when he had then advanced on Ron, seething now, his temper in full control of his actions.

"Oh… but that's the point, right. You weren't thinking. At least, not with this." Harry had then unfolded his arms and prodded Ron hard in the forehead with his finger. " You're so desperate to keep up with the rest of us, you lost sight of what you had. You had Hermione, Ron. You had the most brilliant, courageous, pretty girl in the whole school and you fucked it up over a snog!"

"Wands out, sixth years, and begin!"

Harry snapped back into the present, blinking, staring at his own reflection. He saw that the classmates behind him had gone to do as they were told. Looking up, he realised he had completely blanked through McGonagall's demonstration. He cleared his throat and checked his notes. Thankfully, he had at least described the wand movement. He glanced around the room, going to check if anyone was moving to practice so he could see it in action.

"What colour do you think I should choose?" Hermione asked. Harry wheeled around, seeing Hermione with her wand raised, frowning at her reflection. "Blonde? Black?"

"Er…"

Harry snapped his attention to Hermione's hair, to the soft curls that used to be a bushy frizz before she used her magic to calm it down. The sunlight streaming through the windows made some strands of hair appear almost golden.

"Silver," he said, causing her to look at him in surprise. "Uh, I mean grey. It's technically natural, right? And your hair-colour is sort of the opposite. Golden brown."

"Golden?" Hermione's lips were slightly parted when she looked at him. Then she pulled at one of her curls, studying. "I suppose brown is dark gold."

She then twisted her wrist, focusing on the curl. Calmly and confidently, she recited the incantation. Harry watched, suddenly fascinated, as the golden strands started to turn silver, spreading from the tips all the way to the roots. He gazed at the lock of silvery grey hair, struck by how easily she mastered the spell at the first try.

"What do you think?" Hermione asked him, turning, releasing the curl so it coiled back up. He tilted his head to one side, his attention going instead to her eyes which he noticed were also golden brown.

"Very much the opposite," Harry said with a smirk. She then gestured at his own messy mop.

"Your's should be easy enough. White."

"White? " Harry repeated, surprised. "I was thinking blonde…"

"You gave me an old person colour, it's only fair."

Harry laughed then caught himself. Usually, laughter came easily when he was fooling around with Ron. Hermione had her moments, but she wasn't naturally humorous, often choosing to be more serious. He peered sidealong at her, seeing that there was something different. Almost as if a weight had been lifted from her.

He took up his holly wand and turned his attention to his mirror. His traitorous gaze slipped to over his shoulder, seeing Ron with his face screwed up in concentration as he attempted to transfigure his coppery coloured hair. Harry looked up at his own and dragged his fingers through the locks. The odd red strand caught the light. There weren't many, the straggler hair follicles that followed after his mother rather than his father. He noticed them, though he had no idea if anyone else did. Why would they stare at his hair?

You were just staring at Hermione's.

He picked out a spot and brought his wand up. He mimicked Hermione's wand action and recited the incantation.

White. Like Dumbledore's beard. Like crisp snow…

To his surprise, it worked. A bright white streak appeared down the middle of his jet black locks. He grinned and turned to Hermione, pleased with his achievement.

She grinned back.

"Ten points to Gryffindor for two successful first attempts. Potter, your control and finesse could be better, but it is still applaudable."

Professor McGonagall breezed past their desk, of course noticing everything. Her eye caught Harry's and she dipped her chin in response, moving to check the others. Harry turned his gaze back to his mirror, seeing the vivid white streak down the middle of his black hair.

"Pinch your noses, everyone. We have a skunk loose!"

Harry focused on his hair. His face flamed when he twigged that the remark was at him. He flicked his head instinctively to the Slytherins on the left, but it had come from been from behind. And then he realised that it had been tinged with an irish accent.

Seamus?

Furious, Harry drew his wand up to his hair, cheeks burning. He went to turn his hair back and accidentally turned his full head of hair bright white.

Everyone laughed. Everyone except Hermione. He turned slowly, his anger, embarrassment and disbelief surging through him as he glanced in the mirror and saw behind him, Ron was very much laughing at his expense.

Not very many people knew just how self-conscious he was. A side-effect of being horribly bullied as a child, called names consistently, belittled and ridiculed at every opportunity, and then bullied again in Hogwarts, only it wasn't quite as bad, it still dragged his self-confidence down. Coupled with the immense pressure on his shoulders for being the heralded 'Chosen One', the constant attention, being treated like he was just a thing to talk about and admire, not a person underneath it all. Every jibe hurt, every unwanted stare creeped him out, and every laugh made him feel like a joke.

He heard a soft voice at his side muttering the incantation properly. He peered up at his mirror, seeing his hair restored to their usual messy black locks. A hand reached his and he glanced over, seeing Hermione's wide eyes, her mouth downturned.

"Five points from Gryffindor. No bullying in my classroom, Finnegan."

"It was a joke, ma'am."

The laughter ceased at once.

"Did I say to make jokes? I believe my instruction was clear."

"Sorry, Professor."

The atmosphere thawed a little. Harry leaned towards Hermione, peering up at her. She shot him a grimace, showing him that she also knew who had mocked him.

"Thanks for the rescue," he mumbled. His face was still warm. He slashed his gaze up to the mirror where he could see Seamus. Usually, beside him, Dean Thomas would be leering and joking at his side. Instead, Dean sat with Padma. Both of them had streaks of multicoloured hair. At Seamus's side was an empty seat.

"It's just a bloody kiss, Harry."

The morning events then creeped into the forefront of his mind.

"That bloody kiss broke my friend's heart."

"Oh right… your friend, who's now free for the taking."

"Excuse me?"

Harry quickly stopped himself reliving the morning's tiff. Especially when Hermione wrapped her fingers around his right wrist and pulled it towards her. He looked up, seeing her golden brown eyes.

Everything went still as he gazed upon Hermione's insistent eyes. He found himself caught in a moment, seeing Hermione's golden brown eyes focused on his own. He saw her worry for him and her appraisal for him, and then there was her irritation towards Seamus and her hurt over Ron. Everything was there.

"Practice on me," Hermione said.

"But…"

"I know you can do it."

Hermione gazed into his eyes.

He brought up his wand and spoke the incantation. A curl above Hermione's right ear turned black. Jet black.

Harry lowered his wand, gazing at the black lock. Hermione curled the lock between her fingers.

The bell chimed for the end of class.